


Everything I Need I Get From You

by SAMC_Inc



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, High School AU, Insecure Zayn, Insecurity, M/M, attentive niall, cutecutecute, ziall fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAMC_Inc/pseuds/SAMC_Inc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all Zayn wants is to wallow in himself</p>
<p>Or better yet, the time Niall annoys Zayn into really talking, and Zayn admits that maybe he hates himself a little. Niall doesn't take it, hates the idea even, and sets out on a mission to make sure Zayn knows exactly how loved he is</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything I Need I Get From You

**Author's Note:**

> This one was written by me (Vannah) for no particular reason (I wanted fluffy Ziall)

It wasn’t necessarily peculiar how often Zayn withdrew into himself; it was in fact something Niall had long ago grown accustomed to, and if the blonde really thought about it, it was one of the things he’d happened to love most about Zayn. His introverted qualities were a facet of him Niall had been immediately drawn to, and being the nosy thing he was, had somehow worked his way into Zayn’s heart just enough to get to know him in ways others hadn’t had the chance to. He still found the way Zayn internalized his feelings annoying sometimes, but Niall had become more accepting towards the old habit because it was just how Zayn was. 

So Niall tried not to let it get to him because it didn’t really matter as long as Zayn was still telling him things, and Zayn was always telling him things- Niall was never one Zayn could shy away from after all.

Even before they had begun dating a year, four months, and a week ago (Niall’s very particular with dates, especially when they involve the older boy sat beside him), Zayn seemingly hadn’t been able to shut himself off from Niall. They had been friends far longer than they had been an item (Niall can’t quite honestly say how long it’s been since that day they met in the crowded atmosphere of the elementary cafeteria, partially because he hardly remembers anything from way back then and even if he did, he had enough to be worrying about already with is parents’ divorce to focus on the new kid with dorky glasses and a shy smile), and that was for a reason. Niall was always poking, prodding, forcing Zayn into speaking his mind about anything and everything he wanted to. He supposed, in a way, Zayn had gotten comfortable, had found confidence in his opinions, and structured a bit of personality within himself that was more easily projectable to those that don’t already know him. 

Not that Niall took any credit for this.

Because the blonde really didn’t, doesn’t, he owes all the improvement to Zayn. He’s just happy Zayn’s found a little slice of something to root himself in. 

But maybe Zayn has gotten tired of Niall constantly being the one to know exactly what he’s thinking.

And so Niall takes a deep breath and holds all of these thoughts in his chest before he’s exhaling them out, pencil tapping in an agitated rhythm against his denim covered thigh in a way which he knows is bound to have Zayn snapping at him any second. Until that happens, the younger boy fancies himself with the familiar planes of Zayn’s softened expression, analyzing yet again how lovely the kid looks with a slight frown twisting between his brows and his pink bottom lip pulled under the sharp edge of his teeth, deft fingers tracing over the print layered within the textbook. The shadows of his lashes fan out prettily along the jut of his cheekbones, and Niall finds himself suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to press a kiss there, to skim his lips over the smooth skin of his cheek-

And Niall can see it happening now in his head, how Zayn would jerk back immediately out of surprise, and the bewilderment that would be shining in the depths of his whiskey colored eyes. He can see, with just a little imagination, how that familiar smile would stretch Zayn’s lips too tight and how a blush would flood over Zayn’s tanned skin in an epically endearing way because he still isn’t used to Niall’s little touches.

But that doesn’t happen and the little daydream in Niall’s head is dying away with the flick of Zayn’s hand against his knee.

“Stop tapping your damn pencil and please, for the love of God, stop staring at me like that,” Zayn huffs, not even bothering to look up from whatever sophomore required science textbook he’s begrudgingly reading over this quarter. 

“Oh, so now you speak to me,” Niall hums, tossing his own book out of his lap and onto the floor as he scoots his slender figure closer to Zayn’s. He can practically hear the protests unraveling inside of the older’s head at the closeness- Zayn likes his space during study times –but his mouth remains pursed in a tight line. Niall takes full advantage of this, resting his chin on soft edge of Zayn’s curved shoulder and curling his body around the other’s relaxed figure. He nuzzles his way closer to Zayn’s neck, the tip of his nose nestling into the warm skin and familiar, tantalizing scent of his boyfriend’s throat. Zayn tenses ever so slightly, and it’s a simple happening Niall usually would never catch in another person, but he notices it now, because Zayn’s his person.

“I always talk to you, Ni,” Zayn murmurs, and Niall can tell by the way he’s tucking his tongue between his teeth that he’s trying very hard to remain focused. 

“Should never say always, you know,” Niall says softly, before he’s thinking for a moment and adding, “Or never.”

Zayn snorts, and an almost-there smile wraps around his lips and it’s just enough reason for Niall not to pull away and give up on cracking Zayn, “Kinda just contradicted yourself there, don’t you think?”

Niall shrugs, or he tries to- it’s sorta hard to do, really, when he’s pushed himself so close to Zayn like this, “I’m allowed to do that. Just like you’re allowed to not talk to me.”

The grin twisting the older’s lips falters, and Niall gets jostled around a bit as Zayn pulls himself just far enough away from the blonde so that he can look directly at him, “Niall I am talking to you.”

Niall resists the urge to roll his eyes and scoff, only because he knows Zayn hates it when he does that, and meets the brown eyed gaze head on, “You know what I mean, Zayn. Haven’t talked to me since you got here, and you’re only talking to me now because I practically annoyed you into it. 

Zayn’s mouth opens to say something but closes promptly. A couple of emotions drift across his features but they’re too fast for Niall to catch any of them before a slight unsureness is settling across Zayn’s features and wrinkling the top of his forehead with a frown, “I didn’t know you wanted to talk.”

The blonde does roll his eyes and scoffs this time, ignoring the agitation that tightens Zayn’s lips because he’s just so dense sometimes, “Can you honestly even think of a time when I didn’t want to talk to you?”

“No,” Zayn says, without hesitation, and it makes Niall’s heart flutter really, just hearing Zayn admit that he knows Niall’s always sorta been infatuated with him.

“So why would that change now?”

Zayn laughs a little and drops his head so his gaze is fluttering across the bolded headlines strewn over his lap. The sound echoing out of his chest causes a twinge of discomfort to spark behind Niall’s ribs because it seems so strained, so nervous that it nearly sends a wave of panic over him but he forces himself to relax because it’s Zayn, and if something were really wrong, he would have already talked to Niall about it-

“Do you ever just hate yourself a little bit?” Zayn whispers, and his voice breaks a little at the end. It’s so out of nowhere, so completely unexpected that Niall’s rendered speechless for a moment, tongue tied in a mix of words he can’t figure out how to put together even when a single tear is slipping down the arc of Zayn’s cheek. The blonde can barely separate shock from confusion as he’s sitting up and moving to kneel in front of Zayn, shoving the textbook out of his trembling hands and onto the floor with such little care it’s a wonder how the older doesn’t bother to try to scold him.

“What are you talking about?” Niall mumbles, subtly tripping over his words as he coerces Zayn’s gaze to his with a gentle press of his fingertips against the other’s jaw. His whiskey colored eyes seem magnified with the wet sheen of tears gathering along his bottom lash line, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows harshly.

Zayn shrugs and shakes his head, dislodging Niall’s grip on his face and flickering his gaze back down to his knees, “I’m sorry, clover. That was a bit out of line, wasn’t it?”

It’s so completely obvious how Zayn is struggling to keep his tone even that the blonde refuses to let the boy shame himself so easily and let whatever he had started to confess go. As if Zayn can sense this kind of determination from the younger, he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his thin arms around them, decisively meeting Niall’s cobalt stare again as he leans his weight against the mahogany of the headboard. It’s almost like he’s waiting for the blonde to challenge him, like he knows he can’t get away with something like that so easily-

Because he won’t.

“Who on Earth has the heart to hate Zayn Malik?” Niall whispers, and he means it, he’s sure he hasn’t come across one person who wouldn’t just absolutely adore the raven haired boy. His statement causes Zayn to glower some, even as Niall crawls closer and places himself directly in front of Zayn. Their feet rub together unintentionally when Niall shuffles into a crisscross position, and it’s totally noticeable how Zayn seems to lean towards the touch and moves the slightest bit closer to his boyfriend, like he can’t stand not having some part of him attached to the younger while they’re together.

“I think I have it in me to,” Zayn admits, and Niall can feel his heart sinking down to stomach with the spiral of words slipping out of the older boy’s mouth.

“No you don’t,” Niall says, partially because he can’t think of anything else to say but mostly because he doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to think that there’s even a slight chance that Zayn hates himself. 

Zayn snickers and tips his forehead into the sleeve of his arm, hiding his expression away from Niall. He sits there a moment, rubbing his face along the soft material of his worn Henley as if he’s trying to figure out just exactly how he wants to play this whole ordeal. His voice is worn out and slightly muffled when he finally replies, “I do though. Maybe not a lot, but just enough to notice how people tend to steer clear of me because I’m too intimidating or brooding or whatever. I hate myself just enough to realize that I’m really nothing to be intimidated by, especially with how skinny and awkward and afraid I am. I see how everyone looks at me, Ni, and I know you do too. They eye me like I’m some problem that needs to be solved but they wouldn’t dare give a second of their lives to try to crack.”

“And why the fuck does anyone besides the people you care about matter?” Niall inquires harshly, and he wishes he could take back the cruel bite to his words but he can’t and he’s almost not sorry because he doesn’t want to try to wrap his head around why Zayn would be worried about anyone who doesn’t find him simply remarkable. 

Zayn looks up from the shield of his arms, the bow of his lip tucked prettily underneath his teeth as a scowl contorts his once blank countenance, “What is it exactly do you want me to say, that they don’t matter? That they don’t affect how I feel about myself whatsoever?”

“That’d be ideal, wouldn’t it,” Niall mutters.

Zayn shrugs heavily, “I guess so, and I guess I’m kinda sorry that that’s not how this is going to happen because I’m not you. I’m not someone who can just let people’s opinions roll off of my shoulders without it weighing me down first, and maybe I’ll get there someday, but just not right now.”

Niall is quiet for a moment, silence evading the space between the pair as they stare at one another. Both of their minds are racing too quickly for them to settle on one thing to say in particular, but Niall knows that the one thing he wants out of this is for Zayn to know that he’s worthy enough to love himself. 

“Okay,” Niall breathes out slowly, and he can’t help but grin at how Zayn’s eyebrows raise slightly, as if caught off guard with his response. The blonde chuckles lightly as he leans forward, forcing his torso between Zayn’s bent knees and positioning himself so he’s hanging above the raven haired boy, who has acquired a quizzical glint in the depths of his brown eyes. 

“What were ya expecting, Malik?” Niall hums, his body falling into the cradle of Zayn’s hips when the older straightens out his legs, “A fight? I know you’re not me, obviously. You’re nothing like me. ‘Sides, it’d be a little weird if I was dating someone who thought the exact same way I do.”

Zayn nods along, a simplistic smile slipping over his features as he eyes Niall with a look of adoration and plays with the blonde strands of hair that have fallen over his brow. Niall ignores the way that look turns his insides to mush, and wraps a hand around Zayn's bony hip, tugging him down the bed so his head is resting against the pillows and off of the headboard. Zayn looks amused, and maybe just a little nervous from the way his hands are fluttering to clench at the bedspread on either side of him, as he levels Niall with another endearing stare. 

Niall’s sporting a feeling of apprehension himself, listening intently for any telltale signs that his mom might be approaching his room before he’s leaning down and brushing his lips over the velveteen surface of Zayn’s. Niall can feel Zayn’s breath hitch in his throat, and he tries to stutter his own because while this is all so incredibly new to either of them (not the kissing or even the feeling of them being pressed up against each other but the way it felt so intimate and meaningful), it’s incredibly familiar- like they had already fallen in love with one another but were set on doing it again, right here this time.

“You can take all the time in the world to get to the point where you love yourself,” Niall murmurs against Zayn’s mouth before his lips are tracing a pattern over his jaw and down to his neck, “But I think that you should know that I already do.”

Niall ignores the slight shaking his hands take on as his fingers go to undo the first button of Zayn’s red flannel, a surge of confidence billowing in his chest when Zayn sighs needily and the tempo of his breathing increases ever so slightly. Zayn’s torso is revealed after only a few awkward fumbles, Niall inhaling sharply at the sight of smooth, tanned skin. He raises himself above Zayn, kneeling between his thighs and running a finger over the curve of Zayn’s side. His body is flawless, left totally unblemished for the moment but Niall is sure that one day this empty canvas will be full of splatters of ink in strategically significant places, and he tries to imagine how they’ll look and what they’ll be but then Zayn is giggling due to the fact that Niall’s rouge touch has traced far too close to the ticklish spot of his hip and suddenly, Niall’s back in the now. 

“I love the way you laugh,” Niall muses, smiling foolishly down at Zayn before running his fingers over Zayn’s pelvis just to hear the sound again. Zayn tries to glare at him through his fit of laughter but the point is mute with the way Zayn tosses his head back into the pillow and tries to shuffle away from Niall. Niall stops his tirade, watching as Zayn’s body stops its incessant jerking and his breathing slows, whiskey eyes flickering to meet Niall’s once more.

The smile in his eyes reminds Niall of something else, the blonde leaning in to press a kiss to Zayn’s cheek, “I love the way you look at me.”

His lips skim over the edge of Zayn’s jaw again, just because Niall really can’t help himself. His mouth lingers beneath Zayn’s ear before traveling a little lower, feeling the pulsation of Zayn’s heartbeat against him, “I really love your jaw, but you already know that.” 

Zayn laughs beneath him, and Niall smiles into his neck and blushes because he knows Zayn thinks he’s just a little silly, but he’s determined to be honest, “Shut up. I’m trying to be sweet, okay? Anyways, I love the way you let me ramble and don’t laugh at me, most of the time.”

Niall giggles when Zayn shoves at his shoulder but continues on, kissing down Zayn’s neck and flicking his tongue out when he gets to the base of his throat. Zayn lets out a little whine, and Niall’s lost in the sound for a moment before he remembers what he’s supposed to be doing, “I love your body. I love the sharp lines and divots of it and how warm it gets, even though I bitch about that most of the time. I think it’s perfect, and I love the way it looks dressed up in my hoodies and sweatpants.” 

Niall starts to leave a kiss between Zayn’s pectorals but is stopped by the feeling of hands enveloping his waist and dragging him upwards. Niall goes almost willingly, letting Zayn wrap a palm around the back of his neck as he’s pulled back towards him. Zayn’s eyes are softened with a look of fondness, shining behind a film of tears as he draws Niall’s head forward and runs his lips over Niall’s slowly.

“I love you,” Zayn mumbles when he leans back, the seldom spoken words making Niall’s heart pump just a little bit faster than it usually does around Zayn.

Niall bites back the “You can’t love me if you don’t love you” that hangs at the edge of his tongue, covering his slight hesitation by attaching his mouth to Zayn’s in a wordless proclamation of his love for the older that has them both breathless by the time they draw away from each other. Zayn rubs a hand down Niall’s back when he collapses into him, soothing away the tendrils of tension that still linger across his figure while humming a familiar tune into the crown of blonde waves. 

“I love you too,” Niall whispers back finally, and he means it with every fiber of his being-

He hopes that someday Zayn can say that to himself and mean it too.


End file.
